


The melee

by AK29



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 16:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16895844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AK29/pseuds/AK29
Summary: A personal drabble





	The melee

_At the end of the melée was when it happened, when the sore loser - some knight from the Bannorn, Catrióna hadn’t given him much thought - ripped off the victor’s helmet in hopes of revealing a scandal to his king and queen._

_Catrióna was reminded of the tale of Ser Aveline that Leliana had once told her and how history repeated itself, same pattern, different colour. This time it was not the contestant’s sex that offended the nobles, but the long, slender and pointed ears._

_The girl could not be more than 20 but stood her ground against the knight hurling abuse and insults at her._

_She noticed Alistair getting up to put and end to it beside her, but she reached out and pressed him gently back into his seat. “I have a better idea.”, she whispered and stood up, shouting with all the force of her commanding voice **“ENOUGH!”**_

_She loved how every time anew her guards straightened themselves and everyone else flinched just a little bit. “Step away from the woman.” She approached the field calmly and with the same, self-assured warrior stride she’d perfected since she was eleven. The elven woman was about to kneel but she interrupted her with a firm “No."_

_Catrióna put herself in front of her, blocking the knight and everyone else from her. "What’s your name?” The elf swallowed but the answer she gave then was loud and clear and unafraid. “Arya. Arya Tabris. Your Grace.”_

_“And do your like to have your hair open like that in battle?”_

_“I… what?”_

_“Do you not prefer to have it tied? Under the helmet, it must have been uncomfortable. I imagine you only chose to wear your like this was to prevent somebody from seeing your ears, as futile as that choice was. Am I correct?”_

_Arya nodded wordlessly, still stunned._

_“I thought so.”_

_With a practiced motion, Catrióna removed the decoratice spears from her hair and let the bun fall open. The hairtie she handed Arya._

_“Please. Go ahead."_

_As Arya tied her hair in a ponytail, Catrióna took a step away and started to slowly walk in a circle around her, enabling her to adress every single person in the audience, that had long been stunned into silence, save for the occasional whisper._

_**"LOOK AT HER!”**  She resumed her shouting that had distinguished her in battle. Arya’s face drained of blood._

_“She hid her ears because she KNEW no one here would take her seriously if she did not. LOOK AT WHERE SHE STANDS NOW. The sole victor of this tournament.”_

_Catrióna pointed at the elven woman, who was increasingly confused. “I can see her ears now and I hope EVERYONE ELSE HERE DOES TOO. SHE IS AN ELF, an elven woman from our alienage, with no training, barely any decent equipment._

**_AND SHE HAS BESTED EVERY ONE OF YOU!”_ **

_She took a moment to breathe and even her voice._

_“You have sent the best of the best, the prides of your alrings and bannorns, and they all lost to this woman.” She returned to her place in front of Arya and looked in her eyes, yet still adressed the audience._

**_“I WILL HAVE NO ONE FORGET THIS DAY. I WILL HAVE NO ONE HERE FORGET WHO AND WHAT THIS WOMAN IS AND WHAT SHE HAS ACHIEVED TODAY.”_ **

_She lowered her voice._

_“As for you, I will not have such skill rot away. Follow me, and watch the tournament by my side. Afterwards, we’ll find you a suitable position.”_

_The tears in Arya’s eyes were the last Catrióna would ever see from her._

_At the end of the melée was when it happened, when Queen Cousland found her bodyguard._


End file.
